New Neighbor
by sukikuro
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has lived in London all his life.  Alfred Jones just moved to there.  Now the two must learn to get along, after all that's what neighbors are suppose to do.    crappy summary, hopefully the stories's better.  UsUk, UkUs.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur sighed. This was getting ridiculous. His bloody neighbor just wouldn't shut up. Prancing around, playing nonsense music, making the entire apartment complex smell like hamburgers. Jones. Arthur remembered. His name was something Jones. An American name… well that would explain the hamburgers and lack of manners.

When the music turned up louder Arthur lost his temper, "BLOODY AMERICAN!" He blurted, causing his tortoiseshell cat to leap from his lap with a yowl of irritation.

The Englishman threw the cat an apologetic glance before storming through the door of his small apartment, up to the next floor and down the hall to Mr. Jones's room. He pounded on the door and stepped back, forcing himself to wait for an answer quietly.

After about five minutes he snapped and returned to hammering on the dark wood, this time ready to wait there until he got an answer.

The door finally swung open to reveal a blond boy around the same age as Arthur himself.

"Dude, what's up?" The boy spoke though a mouth full of crisps.

"Are you aware that your music is so loud I can hear it downstairs? I have a test tomorrow and I am trying to study!" Arthur snapped, glaring blatantly at the other man.

"Dude, don't freak. I'll turn it down, I'm Alfred Jones by the way. I'm eighteen and I just moved here from- holy cow, you have big eyebrows!" Alfred stopped talking abruptly to stare.

"You- you- what does that have to do with anything?" Arthur shrieked, "So what if my eyebrows are slightly larger than most? Were you never taught any manners?"

"Dude, chill! I didn't mean to be offensive, the eyebrows are fine, you're hot with them anyway," Alfred shrugged.

Arthur froze. This man, this Alfred Jones, just called him 'hot'. He had been called hot. By another man. By another man he had just met. "Ex- excuse me?"

If Alfred had heard him, he gave no sign, "Anyway, I just moved here, I used to live in America, the best country in the world! England's pretty cool, too though. What's your name? Have you lived in London all your life? How old are you? What do you have to study for?"

Arthur struggled to focus and answer the man's rapid fire questions, "I'm Arthur Kirkland. Yes I've lived here all my life. I will be nineteen in December. The test is on mythology." He stumbled through the words, still lightly shell shocked.

"Oh cool! Dude, I'm starting college tomorrow. I'm a transfer, I went to school back in the good old U.S. of A. until now. Maybe I'll see you around!" Alfred speeded in his loud voice.

"Right," Arthur let his voice trail off as he walked away, sliding down the steps and back into his room. His hand flittered up to brush past his eyebrow, still confused.

Once he managed to get a hold of himself again he realized that the American had been true to his word and turned down the music, so he walked back to his seat and started his studying, determined to forget his strange, new neighbor no matter what.

* * *

><p>Arthur walked quietly onto the second floor of the thriple-decker bus and slipped into the first empty seat he could find. He had been hoping for a nice, uneventful ride.<p>

Sadly you don't always get what you want.

"Hey Artie!" Arthur froze as the loud American's voice shattered his gentle silence.

No no no no no! Maybe if I just ignore him….

"Artie what are you up to? Are you on your way to the college? That's where I'm headed."

So much for that.

"Hello Alfred. Yes, I'm going to the university. And, I really would prefer to be called Arthur," Arthur spoke in a soft, controlled voice, hoping that maybe the other boy would leave him alone now.

Alfred grinned and fell into the seat next to Arthur, "Lighten up Artie, we're classmates now."

"It's Arthur! Arthur Kirkland," He growled.

The American laughed.

_It is going to be a long day._

* * *

><p>Arthur slid into his Mythology class, attempting to keep for loosing his temper. That stupid American, that stupid, STUPID, American! Why has he been following me? Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?<p>

"Hello, Arthur-san," The voice was quiet and soothing, not quite affectionate but not really cold either.

"Hi Kiku," Arthur smiled, Kiku Honda was one of the few friends he had. The Japanese teenager was polite and soft spoken, almost always remaining neutral on topics, they had met in tenth grade when Kiku had come toEngland as an exchange student and decided that he wanted to stay.

"You look stressed, may I ask why that is?"

Arthur sighed, he always did his best to avoid emotion but the rare ones he had were impossible to miss, he was an open book. "It's nothing important, just a new student from America that moved into the apartment above mine, he's apparently enrolled here."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, in itself no, the trouble comes with the fact that he shows up everywhere I-"

"Hey Artie!"

"Oh bloody hell," Arthur let his head fall forward onto the desk as Kiku looked between him and Alfred, who was coming up the row towards them.

"Dude, who's your friend? Is he Asian? He looks Asian. Hey, man! I'm Alfred Jones," Alfred finally stopped to grin at the Kiku, who studied him for a moment before answering.

"I am Kiku Honda, from Japan. It is nice to meet you," Kiku's voice remained quiet and clear, apparently unfazed by his friend's pain and this new boy's energy. He had gotten used to the chaos of Europe in the last three years.

"Cool ta meet cha dude!" Alfred grinned. "Yo! Artie, dude, is this the class you were studying for last night?"

Arthur looked up, avoiding Kiku's raised eyebrow, "Yes, it is. We have a test today, which I would assume you aren't taking?"

"Eh. I'll give it a shot. Bet I can do it!" The American's announcement, which was accompanied with grin and a thumbs up, was interrupted by their teacher calling for class to start.

The test was hard. It had taken Arthur the entire two hour class and he still just barely finished in time. Alfred, on the other hand, had finished in about an hour and had spent the rest of class doodling on a scrap of left over paper.

"Artie!" the call made Arthur scowl, darkly.

"It is Arthur. Now what do you want?" he hissed, not even bothering to try to hide his dislike.

The teen seemed unaffected as he grinned, "We should walk together, we're going to the same place after all."

Arthur paused, trying to think of a logical reason to refuse, there was none. "Fine," he sighed, "See you tomorrow Kiku."

"Goodbye Arthur, it was nice meeting you Alfred."

"Later Asian dude!"

Arthur and Kiku both cringed at his bluntness for moment before Alfred and Arthur walked one way and Kiku the other.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so that wasn't exactly how I wanted it but I think it was okay. Hope you liked it! Please review? If not that's cool, thanks for reading! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur kicked the door shut, his massive eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Alfred had spent the walk from the university to the bus stop talking about his favorite superheroes, the bus ride back to their apartment complex blabbering about his day at 'that stuffy English college', and the walk into the building and up to their respective floors chattering about life back in New York. Arthur had mainly just listened silently; he'd given up on shaking the boy off and was too tired to try to get a word in.

He was relieved to be back in the quiet of his apartment, his cat, Tilly, winding around his legs.

"Hi there, lovely. Do you want something to eat?" He asked, scooping up the tortoiseshell.

She mewed softly and looked up at him. He had always firmly believed that she understood him, it was actually how she'd been named. He remembered sitting there in front of her trying every name he could think of until he finally came to Tilly. At the sound of her name (and he was sure that it was for that reason and no other) she'd mewed and batted at his hand.

Arthur smiled sweetly at the cat, she was a major soft spot for him, as he got out some sardines and dropped a few in her bowl.

While she ate, he walked back into the main room, sitting down to work on his French homework (bloody frog teacher). He was just finishing the first page when music started blasting… again.

"Bloody American," He hissed under his breath.

Tilly, on the other hand, purred happily and curled into his lap.

Arthur groaned quietly as he rolled out of bed. It had been a long night and he just wanted to curl back up and sleep off his exhaustion. But, sadly, he had school.

"Artie!" The call from above did nothing to help the teen's mood.

"Hello Alfred."

"Morning Artie! You ready for the English quiz today? I'm totally psyched!"

"Yes, I am ready for the quiz. I- No! Tilly back in the house!" Arthur leapt forward, attempting to grab his cat before she could run out the door.

"Ooh, kitty!" Alfred dropped to one knee and held out a hand.

"Don't get your hopes up Jones, she doesn't seem to like anyone but me," Arthur jerked his chin up proudly, only to freeze at the sight before him.

His cat, his temperamental, I-hate-everyone-but-Arthur cat, had gingerly sniffed the American's hand and then, without a moment's more hesitation, padded forward and rubbed against the boy happily.

"What the-" Arthur mumbled in confusion.

"Look! She likes me!" Arthur expected the other to gloat, but instead he just laughed energetically and petted the cat softly.

It had taken a good ten minutes to separate his neighbor and his cat, but he'd finally succeeded, gotten his cat back inside and was on the way to the university.

He couldn't quite get passed what had happened. His cat had, quite literally, never liked anyone at first glance but him. Never. Not one single person in her three years of life. When Arthur had found her at the shelter she'd hid behind his leg and the volunteers had begged him to take her. It had taken ages to get her to calm down around Kiku and Arthur's family (though she still disliked his eldest brother). So why, did she like Alfred right off the bat?

Arthur could not, for the life of him, understand. It was because of this that he'd sat there on the bus studying his seat mate. He inspected how the boy looked, spoke, even how he held himself.

Alfred was taller than Arthur by a few inches, his hair was the colour of wheat and his eyes sparkled a clear blue from behind his wire frame glasses. He was wearing a bomber jacket (it wasn't that cold…) and jeans. The boy seemed to lack the ability to sit still, even as he lounged back in his seat his foot tapped quickly against the floor.

But Arthur finally decided why his cat had liked the boy. It was his voice. At first it seemed booming and, honestly, rather irritating. But, now that he actually listened, it was confident and warm, if a little loud. It was a rather nice voice, Arthur realized, once he ignored his original impression of the boy.

"Artie? Hey Artie! Were you even listening?" Arthur snapped back to attention and flushed, avoiding the other's disappointed gaze.

"Of course I was listening. It would be rude not to," He grumbled.

"Yeah. Ya know, I was a little worried. After yesterday I thought ya hated me or something," Alfred's voice was distinctly softer than before and he wasn't really looking at Arthur.

There was a moment of silence before, "I don't hate you. And It's Arthur you bloody git."

Alfred looked over, his face had lit up at the words and he proceded to laugh happily at the other boy's slightly flushed face.

"Good! I want us to be friends, kay?"

"O-okay," The Englishman mumbled, glancing down, avoiding the other boy's smile as he tried to figure out how that had happened.

The American went back to chattering quickly, while Arthur sat quietly and listened to his new friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Um, so I liked the last chapter better than this one (both in content and length) but hopefully it's okay. <strong>

**I'm in an interesting (for me) situation. See, normally I have no idea where I'm going with a story. Here I know where I'm going, I just have no idea how to get there. So I'm working on it, please hang in there with me? **

**One more thing, if you get a chance please review? If not that's totally okay, thanks for reading anyway! **


	3. Chapter 3

**So here we go. Um, I'm not crazy about this it's kinda weird but whatever. **

**I don't own Hetalia **

* * *

><p>The rest of the day had passed fairly normally, save the strangeness of seeing Alfred eat three whole hamburgers at lunch. Arthur was distinctly relieved. In the course of the next few weeks, he and Alfred were starting to get along better, acting like real friends, though it was a different sort of friendship from that of Kiku and Arthur. With Kiku there was mutual understanding, respect, and interests. They had been friends for a while, and while trusting each other fully, they were both content with not knowing everything about each other. He couldn't help but think that With Alfred there was arguing, confusion, irritation, but somehow Alfred came out of it smiling and Arthur scowling but happy. Arthur was unable to think that this was necessarily healthy.<p>

"'orning, Artie!"

"It's 'good morning' you twit and my name is not Artie," Arthur growled, but was only answered with a laugh as the taller blond hurled himself down the steps two at a time, clearly excited that it was a Friday.

"Quite out there!" A shrill voice called from one of the top rooms.

"Good morning Miss. Mary!" Alfred almost sung up to their landlord.

"What's so good about it? I was trying to sleep and you just had to go tramping down the stairs yelling. Haven't you ever heard of manners boy?" She shrieked.

"Well, 'mam I seem to get that question a lot. Artie here asked me that when we first met, right Artie?" Alfred didn't seem the least bit affected by the woman's anger.

Arthur scowled, "It's Arthur! And that's because you really do have horrid manners."

Alfred laughed and grinning, tugged on the Englishman's arm, "Well you can call me Alfie when I call you Artie if it makes you feel better! Now c'mon. To school!"

Arthur kept glaring but allowed himself to be dragged down the steps, out of the apartment building, to the bus stop.

When leaving the university Alfred darted ahead to talk to some of there classmates a few times, always returning to Arthur eventually. It amazed Arthur how the other could make friends so easily, it was even more amazing that he kept returning to talk to Arthur himself. For Arthur friends were few and far between, not because he was unlikeable, he was just not outgoing enough to meet many people.

"Artie guess what?" Alfred didn't bother waiting for an answer, "Some of the guys asked me to play soccer with them after school! Aint that cool? Course, they called it football instead of soccer. You English are weird people, ya know."

"Arthur! And, of course they called it football, that's it's real name."

"No, it's soccer!"

"Football!"

"Well in America we call it soccer, and since America's the best, we're clearly right," the boy looked almost proud of his logic.

"You're in London you twit. American names don't matter. And anyway, we created the official rules so we get to pick the name."

Alfred pouted, "But- but football's the game you play at the superbowl, and it's not soccer."

"What you mean that ruddy stupid version of rugby?"

"No, rugby's all violent and lethal! Football isn't like that."

"Just because you Americans are too weak to play without padding..."

"You meanie!"

Arthur bit his lip, trying to keep from laughing out loud at the other teen's pout.

"Well anyway~" The American sing-songed, "I'm going to go now kay?"

"Alright, why are you asking me?"

"Well cause I normally walk you home," Alfred rocked back and forth on his heels, smiling softly.

Arthur, on the other hand, turned red, "You- you walk me- Don't say it like that!"

"Wha-cha mean?"

"I mean don't say that you walk me home! That sounds like what you say about a girlfriend or something! It's uncomfortable," Arthur stuttered through his explanation.

"Aww Artie! You're blushing, that's so cute!" Alfred chimed.

"Shut up you bloody git!" Arthur scowled and looked down and away, flushing a brilliant red.

"But Artie~!" He whined.

"Just go play your football!" the smaller boy snapped.

Alfred paused for a moment, before smiling again, "Okay Artie! I'll see you later alright?"

"Yeah yeah, see you," Arthur grumbled, raising a hand as Arthur ran off, smiling and waving goodbye.

The boy turned his gaze downward, staring at the paved walkway and scowling. He hated to admit it, but he was a little disappointed to be walking home alone.

Arthur opened his blinds and curled up in an arm chair with a glass of rum resting on the chair's arm. His homework was done and he wanted nothing more than to watch the rain pour outside and get truly drunk. Well maybe not nothing. He was a little lonely, not that that was anything new. The trouble was that his pride kept him from calling anyone for company. So he settled with listening to the rain and petting Tilly.

The loneliness grew stronger with every moment until there was a sharp pounding on the door.

"Artie, open up! Please I'm cold?" Alfred begged from outside.

"What the?" Arthur stumbled to the door, drunk after his third glass. "What 'a you doin' here?"

"I forgot my key and I'm hoping I can stay here tonight, I walked home in the rain and I'm cold. Please Artie?" he asked hopefully.

"Why should I? You left me here all~ alone! By. My. Self," Arthur glared darkly, too drunk to know what he was saying.

Alfred froze, his eyes going wide, "Artie? What are you talking about? You're not acting like your self."

"I'm drunk you idiot. Drunk drunk drunk~~," Arthur sung, turning and stumbling back into his apartment, leaving his door open behind him.

Alfred followed carefully, closing the door behind him, "Um, Artie? Why are you drunk?"

"I- I'm drunk 'cuz you- you left me here all alone! I was all alone again!" Arthur accused with a glare.  
>"But Artie you said-"<p>

"I don't care what I said! I'm saying now that you left me alone, and I was lonely and now I'm drunk," The Englishman grumbled bluntly.

"But- but how's that my fault?" Alfred was incredibly confused, his friend had made it clear that he didn't have to worry about leaving they boy alone, but now...

"You shouldn't have left me here."

"But I just went to play soccer and I'm not normally here after at this time of night, so..."

"I don't care," he turned his head away childishly and scowled.

"Artie are you pouting?" The glare he was given would have made him hide if it wasn't accompanied by a cute little hiccup. "Well, what do ya want me to do now to make it up to you?"

The American had expected defiance, maybe more anger or irritation, and was stunned when the other boy curled up on the small couch and, looking up at him, mumbled, "No more leaving okay?"

"O-okay?" Alfred mumbled in confusion. He walked over to sit next to Arthur, who promptly curled up against the taller boy's side, fisting Alfred's bomber jacket as he closed his eyes to sleep.

"Nighty-night Alfie," Arthur whispered as he slid into unconsciousness.

Alfred stared at him in shock before allowing a small smile to dance across his face, "Night, Artie."

* * *

><p><strong>So... yeah. Thanks for reading and please review? If you can. <strong>

**I'll add in some AmeRus friendship, but I can't bring myself to pair him with anyone but England (sorry sorry sorry!). If you guys have any couple requests (except USUK cuz that's definate) or characters you want to see tell me? Maybe? If you want. **

**:) Thanks again! **


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur sighed and scrunched up his eyebrows, trying to ignore the light from his open window. He'd been having such a lovely dream about tea and Buckingham Palace, and now he was awake, cold, and had a splitting headache. He eventually gave up on trying to get back to sleep, choosing instead to just curl into the warmth under him. _My house smells nice_, he mussed silently, _like leather, coffee, and apples. _It took another moment for him to realise that, 1 his apartment was never warm in the morning, he was in London, 2 it didn't normally smell like leather or apples but instead like tea and rain, and 3 the object he was laying on was breathing.

Arthur hurled himself up right, disturbing the person he was sleeping on in the process.

"A-alfred?" he stuttered, stunned.

Rather that respond Alfred chose to close his eyes and return to the world of unconsciousness.

Arthur looked around, confused, seeing the empty bottle of rum on his table, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him. He groaned and slid down the wall. He'd told Alfred not to leave him alone, he'd nestled into him like a little kid, and now the boy was sleeping on his couch. This was going to be complicated to explain.

"Alfred please wake up," Arthur grumbled.

"Mmm, just one more minute mom."

Arthur blushed furiously at the boy's words, "Get up you git! And, I am not your mother!"

"Hm? Oh, Morning Artie," The boy hummed calmly.

"It is Arthur!"

The American pretended to pout, "But yesterday you even called me Alfie! So you must be okay with it!"

"I- I was drunk! Nothing I said yesterday counts for anything!" Arthur gasped, stunned that he had actually called the other boy Alfie, he shuddered at the very thought.

"Whatever you say Artie!" Alfred winked and flashed a winning smile.

"I- I- You cheeky little- Gah! Out, out, OUT!" The Englishman shrieked.

Alfred smiled, this time it was soft and warm, "Alright Artie. I'll go. Talk to ya this afternoon, mkay?"

Arthur scowled and glared at his friend's back as the taller blond left. Once alone, he fed Tilly and curled back up on the couch to sleep. He could have gone back to his own bed, but he was too tired. Or so he told himself, after all it couldn't have had anything to do with the fact that his couch still smelled slightly of leather and apples...

* * *

><p>"Artie! Wake~ up!" Arthur groaned as the loud voice at the door clashed painfully against his pounding head.<p>

"Shut up you git! I will be there in a moment!" Once he'd finally pushed himself off the couch and stumbled to the door, Alfred had returned to his knocking.

"Artie! Hiya, dude!" The American grinned, clearly not noticing Arthur's glare.

"What do you want, you git? It's saturday, shouldn't you be playing your idiotic video games and avoiding your homework?" Arthur hissed, grumbling under his breath about irresponsible Americans.

"Aww but Artie, I wanted to hang out," Alfred whined, giving Arthur his best puppy eyes.

Arthur flushed and looked away, "I-I have work to do. I need to clean and I wanted to take Tilly out for some exercise and-and." Arthur let his voice trail off.

"But Artie, this place looks pretty clean and I can go with you to take Tilly on a walk!"

"It's not going to be a walk so much as her going where she wants and I stumble along after her," Arthur mumbled, accepting the fact that he wouldn't be able to get away from his blond friend.

Alfred started laughing loudly, and before Arthur knew what was going on, he found himself grinning along with the other boy. He liked Alfred's laugh. It was rather like Alfred's voice, the reason (as Arthur kept telling himself) that Tilly liked the boy.

"Fine. You can come with me," Arthur granted, still smiling.

"Like you could have stopped me if ya tried," Alfred teased, nudging his friend in the side gently.

* * *

><p>The boys were laughing loudly when they returned to Arthur's apartment after the hour long 'walk'. It had been more of the two switching between talking while the cat investigated and chasing after her when she took off.<p>

"Well that was fun," Alfred grinned, laughing.

"Yeah, I guess it really was." Arthur mussed, turning to look at the other boy.

Alfred was flopped out on the brown couch, Tilly curled up on his lap, a look of satisfaction in his eyes, and a grin kissing his lips. His hair, falling flat except for the stubborn cowlick, was slightly tousled and his glasses were sliding down his nose. Arthur had to force back another laugh when Alfred tried to shift Tilly slightly and got a bite to the wrist for his attempt.

"Artie~ it's not nice to stare~," Alfred sung, throwing Arthur an overconfident smirk. "I know it's wonderful to have a chance to watch a heroic guy like me, but try to contain yourself."

Arthur's eyes widened and his face burned a bright red at the words, "I- I wasn't staring! I was just- just."

"Just what~?" Alfred laughed for a moment before throwing an arm around Arthur's shoulder, "No worries Art, I was just kiddin' ya. So, wha 'da we gonna do?"

"It's 'kidding you', 'what are', and 'going to', is it so hard to use proper English?" Arthur demanded, his embarrassment forgotten in his irritation at the mangling of his native tongue.

"Aw, Artie. You're no fun!" Alfred whined, flashing puppy eyes at his friend.

"You are such a child," Arthur grumbled, trying his hardest to be mad at the other boy, but when met with the stunningly blue pools he couldn't. When the other boy gave a low whine, he gave up and collapsed on the couch with a sigh.

"But you still love me, right Arthur?" Alfred whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Wh- what?" Arthur stuttered.

"Hm? Oh nothing," Alfred laughed, but he didn't quite meet Arthur's gaze before he quickly changed the subject.

* * *

><p>The boys spent the rest of the day talking and goofing off, but Arthur couldn't forget Alfred's question.<p>

Where the hell had that come from? Did he still love him? Arthur struggled to figure out the answer to that question as he tried to sleep that night. _ This should be obvious_, He'd mussed, _We're both guys. We can't love each other, that's not how it works. _In his mind, that should have put an end to it. And yet... He couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't forget clear blue eyes, soft wheat-colored hair, strong arms. He couldn't stop smelling coffee and leather with just the tiniest hint of apples. He couldn't get past the sound of that voice. Warm and loving, strong and gentle, and just utterly perfect.

Arthur scowled, and shook his head furiously, trying (and failing) to push away the thoughts, it was hard for him to believe that his thoughts had gotten so very sappy.

In any case, he'd reached a final answer to Alfred's unanswered question.

Yes. He did love him.

* * *

><p>Alfred opened the door after a few minutes of Arthur's knocking. "Artie? Hey what's up?"<p>

"Alfred, I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey. Um so thank you for reading! Sorry it's so short. I tried a cliff hanger sorta thingy, idk if it worked. Please, please, please review? If not that's cool too. :) Thank you again for reading! <strong>

**Oh and to anyone in America, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! **


	5. Chapter 5

"I love you."

The moment the words were out Arthur regretted them. As soon as he'd woken up that morning he'd thrown on some clothes and hurled himself outside and up the steps to his friend's door, where he now stood, staring at Alfred. _How can I know that I love him? If anything maybe a crush, but love is much too strong a word, especially since I thought myself to be strait until five minutes before. _Arthur's thoughts flew and Alfred's blank stare was doing nothing to calm him. _Although, this could explain why none of my relationships last... _

Then Alfred laughed.

Point blank, he laughed at the other's words, "I'm glad Artie! You're an awesome friend. Any chance you could help me out with the English homework? Shakespeare makes my head hurt and you're really good at it."

Arthur stood there, shocked, for a moment before nodding and stuttering, "Of-of course," and following Alfred into his house.

_He thought I meant love as in a friend? Who randomly shows up at their friends apartment to tell them that they love them AS A FRIEND? Bloody, God-damn American! Idiotic git! I will curse you! How could I have thought I loved you- you- you... _All logical thought stopped when he realised he was in Alfred's house.

"Hey Artie, want anything ta eat or drink?" Alfred called over his shoulder.

"Oh. Um, no thank you," Arthur mumbled, too busy looking around to really think about the question.

The apartment was simple, set up the same way as his. The door opened to a main living area, with a small kitchen to the left and a narrow hallway to the right. Down the hall there were three doors, which, if it was like his apartment, led to a bathroom, a closet, and a bedroom.

Though Alfred had only lived there for a few weeks, the living area was distinctly his. He could see hamburger wrappers and soda cans spill over the edge of the rubbish bin in the corner. The air smelled the same as Alfred had the day before. Movies were stacked next to the television, textbooks and papers were scattered across the small table in the center of the room, and on the floor lay clothes, Cd's, and a laptop.

Alfred, who'd slid into the kitchen to grab a coke, laughed nervously, "Uh. Guess it's kinda messy huh? Sorry bout that..."

"Kind of messy? Have you ever cleaned this place?" Arthur gasped incredulously.

"Eh? Not really. I haven't been here long so I didn't think it'd gotten that bad."

"It's horrible!" Arthur was stunned. The place was absolutely terrible, and without another thought he walked to the center of the room and started cleaning, ignoring the other boy arguing that he needed help with homework, not with cleaning.

* * *

><p>About an hour later the room was clean; the garbage taken out, the clothes given to Alfred to be put either in the laundry hamper or the closet, and the Cd's, DVDs, and papers stacked up neatly.<p>

"Wow, Artie. You'd make a really good housewife," Alfred mumbled, looking around the now organized living area.

"Thank you, I- Wait, WHAT!" Arthur shrieked when he'd fully processed the words. "I would make a good what?"

Alfred chuckled nervously, "Um, it's a compliment?"

"No it bloody well isn't!" Arthur yelled, advancing on Alfred where he was sprawled out on the couch.

"Artie? Oh come on Artie, you forgive me right? It was just a harmless comment," Alfred begged, trying to calm the other down before he was killed.

"No I don't forgive you, you- you- oh I don't know what you are!" Arthur stuttered, more shocked than angry at this point. He couldn't quite figure out how to handle the words.

"Artie..." Alfred let his voice trail off and then, slowly, a devious smile crept across his face.

Arthur paused in his approach, just a foot or two away from the other boy, "Jones... Jones, you arse, what are you-"

Arthur's sentence was cut off by Alfred lurching forward and, using his wrist, pulled him forward, not onto the couch next to him, but into his lap.

"A-Alfred! Wha-what are you doing!" Arthur gasped.

Alfred made a nondescript noise and grinned up at the shorter boy, "Just trying to calm you down Artie." He rubbed circles on the boys back soothingly.

Or at least it should have been soothing, instead Arthur found himself tensing up, he was having a hard time dealing with all of this; he'd confessed his love to a boy, cleaned up said boy's house, and was now sitting in said boy's lap. His head was spinning and, in all honesty, he really wished he'd just stayed in bed that morning.

"Al-Alfred, come on. You-you wanted help on your homework didn't you?" Arthur stuttered, scrambling off the other and blushing furiously.

"Right, let's do that," Arthur tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that thought that Alfred had sounded disappointed.

* * *

><p>The homework session had taken about two hours, which was actually fairly short considering the number of times they'd gotten sidetracked.<p>

Alfred had carelessly admitted that he was gay. It had come up accidentally, when he'd mentioned something about needing to respond to a text from his friend/ex-boyfriend, Ivan. Arthur was thrilled, though he did his best to hide it. The American hadn't been the slightest bit worried about Arthur's response, leaving Arthur to wonder is maybe in America being gay wasn't even the smallest bit unusual. In London it wasn't uncommon or anything, but still, coming out was a fairly big deal.

After the homework they'd wound up watching a horror movie.

Arthur was severely confused.

The other teen had begged him to watch it with him and now the American seemed terrified, hiding in the smaller boy's shoulder and jumping whenever anything even remotely scary occurred on the screen.

Really, Arthur mussed, he couldn't complain. After all, he was really enjoying the feeling of Alfred clinging to his arm, especially when he could smell the other boy's scent and Alfred was so very warm. Even with the cold that was England in September, the boy on his arm was warmer than a fluffy coat and a roaring fire but together.

Arthur bit back a smile as Alfred yelped and curled tighter into his side, begging 'Artie' to keep him safe from the 'scary monsters'. He considered flipping off the TV, but really, who would pass up the opportunity to have their crush clinging to them with no sign of letting go?

Oh yes, Arthur was enjoying himself quite a bit.

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><p><strong>Okay. So this is very short. And weird, I'm not sure if I like how it's turning out. Hmm, well we'll see. Um thank you for reading! And if you can please review? Thanks again! <strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur blinked heavily and forced himself to stay sitting up strait. His weekend was over and he was bloody exhausted. So much had happened in since Friday and he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. The one movie had turned into a horror movie marathon. After having his crush cling to him and half sit in his lap for an afternoon he'd spent the night up resting in bed, dreaming about Alfred like a teenage girl.

The trip to school so far had been surprisingly normal considering how nervous Arthur was. Alfred insisted on calling himself the hero and talking about how awesome America was and how he would inevitably save Arthur from the horrors of England and it's school system.

"Artie~," Alfred's voice cut through the air, dragging the Englishman back down to Earth. "Artie, we're here!"

Arthur gave a small noise of agreement and stumbled of the bus, after Alfred.

They'd just made it onto the university grounds when a strong heavily accented voice called to Alfred. "Alfred. It has been a while. We shall catch up, da?"

"Oh, Ivan, hey! It's been forever man!" Arthur watched quietly as Alfred grinned at the massive Russian. "I haven't seen you since you moved, how's it going?"

They continued their conversation for a couple of moments before Alfred remembered that Arthur was standing next to him. "Oh, by the way, Ivan this is Artie, Artie this is Ivan."

Arthur stepped forward slightly and, holding out his hand, introduced himself, "Arthur Kirkland. It's nice to meet you."

The Russian teen looked him up and down discretely and all but broke Arthur's hand in his strong grip, "Hello. You must be Alfred's new boyfriend, da?"

Arthur froze and stuttered while Alfred laughed, "Na, we're not dating. Artie's my best buddy, right Artie?"

Arthur nodded vaguely, amazed at Ivan's assumption.

"Oh, so you're still single?" At Alfred's nod Ivan's face split into a pleased smile, "So I was your last boyfriend da?"

"Yeah, you're my last _breakup_," Arthur was too busy glancing between Alfred and his ex to notice the stress on the 'breakup' or how Alfred seemed rather uncomfortable, he did, however, see how Ivan frowned for a moment at the phrasing.

"We should hang out again sometime soon, da?"

"Uh yeah."

Alfred and Arthur stood silently, watching Ivan walk away.

"So, how long did you two date?" Arthur mumbled, trying to ignore his jealousy.

"A year and a half, during junior and senior year 'o high school. Um Artie? You- you're okay with me being gay right?" Alfred mumbled, staring at the ground and shuffling back and forth.

"What? Of course I am. After all, if I wasn't it would be rather hypocritical now wouldn't it." Arthur answered with out thinking, only to freeze when his words caught up with him. "I- I mean- I. I haven't told anyone, I only figured it out recently," the final sentence came out as a whisper.

Alfred grinned widely, "Don't worry Artie, I won't tell."

Attempting to change the subject (and more than a little curious) Arthur asked, "Why did you and that Ivan fellow break up?"

"Oh, well, we kinda, um, never really broke up... I mean, we're not still datin' or nothin' but we only stopped 'cause he moved..." Alfred mumbled, blushing furiously.

Arthur froze again at that. They'd never broken up? After a year and a half they were still happy and going strong? "Oh, so does that mean that you two might get back together again? Not that it matters or anything. I was just curious."

"Na, I don't think I want to date him again. I liked him, but I like- someone else."

Arthur felt his heart sink. "Really? Do I know him?"

"Ye-yeah, you know him..."

"Hm, do you want to tell me wh-"

"No! I mean- sorry, I just rather not share, mkay?" Alfred mumbled, shuffling his feet.

"Alright then..." Their conversation died for a while before slowly restarting and picking back up, but Arthur couldn't shake him curiosity or his jealousy.

* * *

><p>"Bonjour, mon Angleterre!" The thick french voice called from behind him.<p>

"Oh bloody hell... Francis I don't need this right now," Arthur turned to glare at his sort of friend, Francis Bonnafoy. The Frenchman was a pervert and a horrible flirt, but he was nice and understanding... when he wasn't trying to get in some one's pants.

"Oh but mon chere, it is always the right time for romance!"

"Romance and rape are not the same thing, frog!" The Frenchie simply laughed his obnoxiously thick laugh, slung an arm around Arthur's shoulders, and continued their conversation as is Arthur wasn't cussing and trying to get away.

"Let go of me, you bloody git!"

"But that's no fun."

"I don't care! Off off off!"

Once again Francis ignored his words and focused on his own agenda, handing Arthur a rose and kissing him on the cheek before whisking the furrious boy off to their next class.

* * *

><p>Alfred scowled at the floor, he'd just watched some boy with wavy blond hair put his arm around Arthur's shoulder and hand him a rose. He knew it was irrational for him to be mad, after all it wasn't like he'd made any sort of advances or talked to Arthur about anything.<p>

He'd almost managed to calm himself down when the bastard kissed him.

Screw irrationality or idiocy, he was furious.

It didn't matter what he'd openly said, it mattered what he did! And he'd flirted (maybe not openly but that was okay), he'd gotten Arthur to confess his love (and then lied about it), and he'd purposefully picked movies he was terrified as an excuse to curl up to the boy.

The blond dragged Arthur off God-knows-where. But he still couldn't quite calm down, Arthur was his and he'd be damned if he let some random boy take him away.

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><p><strong>So that was shorter than normal and not the best... I hope it was okay though. Thanks for reading! <strong>

**Oh also, because I keep forgetting to do this, thank you so much to the people how review and favorited and alerted and what not, it makes me really happy to get those emails so thank you! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

Francis whisked Arthur down the hall towards their cooking class. Arthur was so busy trying to figure out where the hell he'd gotten the rose from, that it took him quite a while to realize that Francis's arm was still wrapped around his shoulder. He did notice, finally, when the hand slid lower, curling around his lower back.

"Let go of me you bloody frog!" Arthur growled, trying to push Francis off of him, not that he was succeeding.

"Oh mon ami, why would I do that, I don't want to release my dear little rosbif!" The teen smiled and laughed, his thick accent twisting both the words and laugh, making his every word distinctly french. Arthur hated the french and was doing everything in his power to not loose his temper and punch his 'friend'. Before he really had the chance to do anything, they arrived in their class and Francis released him to go talk to Gilbert and Antonio.

The three were very close, called the bad touch trio or bad friends trio by most of the student body. Francis was a pervert, Gilbert an ass, and Arthur had a very long (and partially very bad) history with Antonio, on the other hand, the tree could be relied on when push came to shove. Arthur had known Francis and Antonio for as long as he could remember, Gilbert he had moved to England and enrolled in their school the same year as Kiku.

Arthur spent the class watching his partner, Kiku cook quietly. The two had a silent agreement, Arthur did not touch the food. They'd come to this agreement years ago when, in their high school cooking class, Arthur had accidentally burned down half the kitchen while trying to cook spaghetti, resulting in one sobbing Italian, one furious, shrieking Italian, and one very, very pissed off teacher. It was an event no one would ever let go, much to Arthur's disappointment.

"Hey Arthur, Kiku keeping you away from the stove? Probably a good idea. I mean as awesome as it was to see Lovino freak out, I'd rather not have to deal with the unawesomeness of Feli's crying," Gilbert, an albino with an obsession with his Prussian heritage (not German, Prussian, his brother was German, he was too awesome for that), snickered at Arthur as he walked up, using the sink behind Arthur and Kiku's station.

"Oh bugger off you bloody German!" Arthur hissed, ignoring the sympathetic glance from Kiku.

"How are things going between you and Alfred?" Kiku asked in his normal half whisper, while Gilbert grumbled about the difference between being German and Prussian.

"What? Oh yes, that. It is going very well," Arthur was suddenly torn between telling his friend everything and just leaving it at that, not that he had much of a choice. Kiku could read him like a book.

"Have you finally realized it?"

"Realized what?"

"Well, Arthur-san, that you're gay," The way Kiku said it, so calmly, so point-blank, though fitting the Kiku he'd always known, shocked him endlessly. "Oh, so you didn't realize it? Does that mean you don't know about your feelings for Alfred-san?"

"I- I realized but I just- well- how did you know?" Arthur stuttered.

"I spend most of my free time reading ya- shounen ai." Arthur just stared at his bright red friend, wondering what the hell that had to do with anything. "Shounen ai is romance manga involving two boys. My point is that I recognize love when I see it, especially between two men."

"Oh, that's understandable," Arthur muttered, though still rather confused, "Hey Kiku. You started to say something else, 'ya' something?"

"That's nothing Arthur-san. Are you just trying to change the subject from your budding romance?"

Arthur stuttered, flushing bright red for a moment before struggling to cover his embarrassment, "Have you been spending time around Elizabeta again?"

"No not at all. I haven't talked to Elizabeta-san for at least a month. She has been far too busy to waste time that way," Kiku assured. "Now we should return to our assignment."

* * *

><p>Gilbert slid away, thrilled that they hadn't paid any mind to him. Maybe with this info he could keep Eliza from beating him with her frying pan. And even if it didn't help in that way, it would be fun to see a certain wavy haired blonde's response.<p>

Gilbert smirked gently, "Hey, Frannie, guess what I just heard about our favorite little Englishman..."

* * *

><p>When the bell rang half the class darting from the room, which was normal, what was abnormal was that Kiku was one of those students. He tossed a quick, "Sayonara, Arthur-san. I'm sorry to be so rude, but I need to get something done!" over his shoulder and hurled himself out of the classroom and around a corner before stopping to lift his cell phone.<p>

"Elizabeta-san! Arthur accepted that he is gay. You were right, he likes his Alfred-san. Should we start today?"

"YES!" the Hungarian trilled, "Way to go, Kiku! Can you catch up with Francis in time?"

"Yes, I think I can."

"Good, go talk to him about it, convincing him to go with the plan shouldn't be too hard. I'll send Alfred your way soon."

"Alright, you're coming along too, correct?"

"Of course, wouldn't want to miss the show!" The two hung up in tandem and darted off to complete their half of the mission, they had refused to pull Arthur out of the closet against his will, but now that he was out there was no reason not to give the future couple a little push in the right direction...

* * *

><p>"Angleterre!" Arthur groaned, glaring up at the ground, <em>maybe Francis will disappear if I just ignored him. <em>

"Arthur, my little rosbif, you really shouldn't ignore people, it is so very rude."

With one last little groan he turned around sharply and trying to jerk away from the arm wrapping around his waist. "What, frog?"

"I have heard that you are dating some new student from Amérique. Is that right, Angleterre?"

"I will answer when you get off me you bloody git!" Arthur spat, Francis released him and ranted about the beautiful of 'l'amour' until Arthur started his explanation, "The exchange student's name is Alfred Jones, he is my neighbor, and I am _not_ dating him!"

"Oh, but love is in the air, oui?"

"No it is not! And did you really just call me roast beef, you stupid-"

Francis laughed, nudging the blond again, "Ah, I see that you no longer deny it. Since you are out of the closet, and not dating your pretty little Amérique, you shall finally date me, non?" The Frenchman slid closer to the Arthur, who, in spite of his shock, started to speak, but was cut off. "This is why you will not date him, oui? You can not return his feelings, because of your love for moi?"

Francis had been drawing closer to Arthur with every word, and by this point he had backed the furious, blushing blond into against the wall and was leaning closer in spite of Arthur's insults and threats.

"No he will not date you, you fucking frog," the words were hissed, low and cold and full of not quite concealed rage. Francis turned and Arthur was able to see around him, to where Alfred stood, shaking with what appeared to be fury.

"Ah, so you must be little Artie's neighbor, what was your name again?" Francis sounded almost taunting.

Alfred's eyes flashed dangerously, stepping forward until he was only an inch or two away from Francis, his voice a low growl that Arthur had to strain to hear, "His name is not Artie, it's Arthur and he is mine. So let go of him, or I will break your little French face, got it bastard?"

* * *

><p><strong>I updated, finally! As always, <strong>**thanks for reading and please review?**

**But, this time I have a little request... it's simple, I'm just curious about opinions on something. I'm considering making this longer than originally planned, so I'm wondering if any one wants any particular side pairing? Thanks again so much! **


	8. Chapter 8

"Ah, calm down, mon ami. Nothing to get worked up over," Francis laughed nervously.

Alfred growled, stepping closer to the blond, who was slowly understanding just how much trouble he'd gotten himself into. "_Nothing_? You're backing _my _Arthur up against the wall, trying to steal him from me, and you're calling it nothing?"

Francis smirked, "Your Arthur? But just a moment ago he said that you were not dating, non? So you have no claim on him, So now I plan to have quite the claim on him in the best wa-"

Alfred grabbed a hold of Francis's shirt and pushed him against the lockers next to Arthur, his voice a low hiss, "You will not touch him, got it you fucking frog? He is my Arthur and I don't care if we're not dating, he. Is. Mine." Without another word, he released the now scared frenchman, grabbed Arthur's wrist and dragged him off.

"Alfred. Alfred! Oi, Jones!" Arthur gasped, trying to get his friend to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

"What?" Alfred span around, to face Arthur, though he kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Alfred, what just happened? I appreciate you saving me, but what is going on? This morning you were calling me your friend and introducing me to your ex boyfriend and now you've 'claimed' me? What is going on?" Arthur stuttered.

"I- I like you Arthur. I like you a lot, and it pissed off royally to see that stupid Frenchie acting like that to you," Alfred's voice was almost silent and his face was a brilliant shade of red.

"Alfred? What do you mean by 'like'?"

"I mean I- well I- oh screw it," Alfred scowled and leaning forward he gently took a hold of Arthur's chin and pressing their lips together.

* * *

><p>"Mon deu." Francis whispered, "Why did I agree to do that?"<p>

"It was all in the name of romance, Francis. All in the name of romance," Elizabeta smiled, patting Francis on the shoulder as she watched the two blonds retreating.

"Hai, they are sure to start dating now Francis-san. We helped them both quite a bit." Kiku chimed in his quiet little voice, "next maybe we'll help you and Mathew."

"What?" Francis gasped, whirling to stare at the Japanese boy.

"No no! We need to get Mathew together with Gilbert!" Elizabeta insisted, ignoring Francis's shock.

"Hmm, we'll have to look into that Eliza-ne-san."

The two disappeared after Alfred and Arthur in hopes of seeing if their scheme worked, leaving a very confused Frenchman behind them.

* * *

><p>Arthur froze, he couldn't quite grasp what was happening.<p>

Alfred pulled back slightly and smiled, "That's what I mean. So, what cha think? Are ya willing ta go out with me, Artie?"

Arthur didn't move, a little voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to say yes, another part of him wanted to blush and hide. He found himself speaking before he could help it, "I think, that is improper English. You Americans always ruin the Queen's good English."

Alfred's mouth fell open and he stuttered dully, Arthur chuckled and, with a smirk, leaned forward and kissed back.

* * *

><p><strong>Um so, that was very very short. I apologize for that and for the quality of it. Um, sorry? <strong>

**Thanks for reading! Please review? **


	9. Chapter 9

**Um, hi? Sorry for the wait? There's an explanation at the bottom.**

* * *

><p>Arthur smiled gently, it had been a couple of days since he and Alfred had gotten together, but Arthur was still as trilled and elated as during the kiss. Alfred seemed just as happy, except for the slight problem that whenever a certain Frog appeared the American growled and took a hold of Arthur in some way shape or form. It was proving to be a problem, as Arthur and Francis were, sadly, family friends and had been relatively close since they were young. Arthur's list of friends was short and rather lacking, so to be honest Arthur would rather not lose any of them, even annoying Frogs.<p>

The two had yet to go on an actual date, and, though they spent a large amount of time together, they had done that before they started dating, causing Arthur to feel almost as if they weren't an real couple. It didn't matter so much when they were together, but, when they were apart, he couldn't help but worry. He wasn't sure if he would be able to take it if the other boy wasn't taking this as seriously as he was.

"Artie!" Arthur turned, torn between smiling and scowling at the sight of his boyfriend darting up like an excited puppy. "Artie, guess what? I think I actually passed my history test! Even though you Brits get all your history all mixed up. Y'all get all your ideas mixed up, just like with language. Y'all seem to think that grammar and all that's actually important in normal conversations."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the rant, but congratulated the American on his test. He knew he'd inevitably be dragged out to a movie or ice cream in celebration. Not that he could say he minded too much.

Sure enough, the boy caught a hold of his hand, triggering a brilliant blush, and pulled him down the hall, gasping about how they should see some movie he'd wanted to see. Arthur allowed himself to be dragged along with minimal complaints, he would have argued more if something else hadn't caught his eye.

Standing next to the lockers on their left, ignoring the two girls trying to talk to him, was that ex-boyfriend of Alfred's. Ivan, wasn't it? His mouth was hidden behind his scarf (really did he ever take that thing off? It really was fairly warm.) but his eyes, narrowed slightly, were fixed on his and Alfred's interlocked fingers. The purple orbs raised suddenly to Arthur's eyes, which looked down and away instantly.

The Russian turned back to the girls, the platinum blond pushed waist length hair out of the way and gasped on to his arm possessively, while the short haired blond chattered away about something or another like nothing in the world mattered. Even without the frozen over eyes peering his way, Arthur could still feel them, glaring, threatening. And, for the first time, wondered exactly what he was getting himself into.

* * *

><p>"So then, the chick gets on all fours and sniffs the dude like some kinda animal, then she like, lunges at the camera! It was terrifying dude, terrifying!" Alfred gasped, leaning forward across the booth, eyes wide as he told Arthur about the movie. He'd spent the last hour describing, in great detail, the American horror movie he was trying to convince Arthur to watch with him.<p>

"Al, you've just told me everything that happens in the movie, from beginning to end. Why would I watch it now?"

"Well- um- that's cool, 'cause there's two sequels so we can watch those!"

"Why do you watch horror movies? You never can handle them," at the comment, the grin dropped from the American's face, and he started pushing around the ice cream left in his bowl.

"But, Artie. I wanna watch 'em with you."

The kicked puppy look would get to anyone, and Arthur was no exception, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He sighed, "Love, if it actually matters then fine, I'll watch them with you."

"Awesome!" Alfred laughed, any trace of sadness disappeared and the boy continued chattering happily as he finished eating.

* * *

><p>A sharp scream sounded from Arthur's left, almost shattering his ear drum. He was sitting on the couch next to his boyfriend, who was a few levels past terrified and clinging to his side like there was no tomorrow.<p>

Arthur had given up on watching the movie, instead, he was listening to Alfred scream and enjoying the feel of arms wrapped around him and a face hidden in his chest. It seemed that this would be how every scary movie watched with Alfred would end.

By the time the two movies (because Alfred insisted he was fine and could watch them both) had ended it was impossibly late and Arthur felt they'd wasted their afternoon, since neither of them seemed to particularly enjoy the movies. He mumbled so without really intending to, blushing when Alfred heard.

"A- a waste of time? But, I thought we were going to have fun together," the normally loud boy mumbled almost silently.

"That's not what I meant. I enjoyed being with you, it is simply that you don't seem to enjoy these movies at all. I don't understand why you watch them."

"I wanted to spend time with you," the American wouldn't meet Arthur's gaze, either from embarrassment or sadness, he couldn't tell. "And, and this way we could be close physically and mentally. Is that so horrible?"

Arthur's eyes went wide, surprised by the other's response, "Of, of course that isn't horrible. That's rather nice. Actually it's very nice, sweet even." He smiled at the faint flush that barely even touched Alfred's ears.

"Come on Artie, I was being serious."

Arthur's smile widened, and he brushed his lips across Alfred's forehead, "So was I, love."

* * *

><p><strong>So, the last chapter was not what I was planning on doing with the plot line, at all. I wrote and uploaded it while really tired without rereading or realizing that I was screwing up the story. So, um, I kind of wrecked it with that and am now trying to fix it and yeah... So, I'm sorry that these last two chapters were so bad and I'm also sorry for the random change in plot... Oh and sorry for it being so short, the chapters will get longer again soon, promise. <strong>

**Thanks so much for reading! Review if you get the chance? Please? **


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